Rebirth Into My Second Chance

It must have been the half-year kiss drought that got us all mushy and tangled, a mess of limbs and longing. When I shifted towards him, Max wrapped his arms around me like he was trying to merge our souls.

I was practically petrified in his hold, not daring to make any sudden moves.

Seems like Max was channeling half a year's worth of frustration because it took him a while before he finally let me go. Those deep-set eyes of his pierced into mine as he whispered with a touch of pain, "Claire Floyd, I've never met anyone as heartless as you." I teased him by circling my arms around his neck, "What's it gonna be, Max? Have you been around the block or have I been the only stop? Dare to compare me with someone else?"

He sighed, clearly outmaneuvered, and before I knew it, I was swept off my feet, literally hanging on to him for dear life, his warm breath tickling my skin. "Claire Floyd, did you miss me?"

"You first," I said, even though my heart screamed yes. But I had my pride, and unless he pushed, I wasn't budging.

Maybe I was just being stubborn.

"Want me to show you how much?" He nuzzled into my neck, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that sent shivers down my spine.

"The dude with the gold chain waiting outside... if he waits much longer, his boss might kick the bucket, and I won't even know why he'd be after my fingers."

But Max, undeterred, laid me down on the bed, his breaths quick and heavy, signaling his indifference towards the outside world. His only desire at that moment was to consume me entirely, leaving me blushing furiously.

Yet, what I craved was the truth behind everything.

I found out Hannah was after me, not just for kicks, but because she's targeting all single, pregnant women on welfare.

Knowing Richard was my brother was one thing, but finding out who our father was, ensuring Richard's well-being, and identifying the mystery woman who took my fingers and impersonated me to call Kate were all crucial pieces of the puzzle I needed to solve. With a gentle push, I freed myself from Max's grasp.

He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he anticipated my move, and casually threw my clothes back to me.

"Cold-hearted," he commented,

before disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the room, and when he came out sans the steam, I knew he had braved the cold shower.

"Max, you say I'm cold-hearted, but I'm just tough on others, not on myself. What about you? You're tough on yourself." My heart ached for him.

He witnessed his mother's murder by his father fell from grace, spent years planning his revenge while standing by Alan Hilton's side, and finally claimed the head of the Hilton family-all in the name of finding

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He learned to suppress his love, to cover for me even after my supposed death, and sought the truth behind my demise, ready to follow me into the afterlife and start anew.

"Max, you're too hard on yourself. Why not love yourself a bit more?"

I

As I tenderly caressed his face and

helped him with his shirt buttons, I

couldn't help but feel for him. Standing on my tiptoes, I wrapped his tie around his neck, playfully tugging it as a form of retaliation.

He didn't get angry; instead, he leaned down, his lips just brushing mine, and whispered, "Being tough on myself is nothing when it comes to you." "Thank you, Max," I sincerely meant it. During my darkest moments, he was there, unobtrusive yet ever-present, guarding me silently every day. "So, will you marry me now?"

Bewildered by his sudden proposal, I shook my head, "No, I can't."